


Radio

by tidal_race



Category: Leverage
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-01
Updated: 2018-08-01
Packaged: 2019-06-20 00:42:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 391
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15522306
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tidal_race/pseuds/tidal_race
Summary: Written for the prompt "And I wonder if I ever cross your mind; for me it happens all the time - Lady Antebellum" on Fic_Promptly





	Radio

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Kayim](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kayim/gifts).



Sometimes Aimee drives across whole states with the radio off, just the dull rush of the wind and the the road in her ears. Sometimes it’s because in traffic nobody can seem to figure out you shouldn’t cut off or tailgate a truck pulling a horse trailer, or that a blinker means she’d like to get over at some point in the next five miles so she can make her exit.  
  
Sometimes though, it’s because it’s already too easy, when it’s just you, and a stretch of highway, and the sun hits the horizon just right, or you come over a rise in the mountains and you can see for miles, to feel like there should be somebody there with you. And for her, it’s always _him_.  
  
She got married once, thinking she was doing the right thing. There was a man who loved her, and a man who was always leaving, and so she made a choice. One she thought would be best for all of them in the end. Turned out there were no good choices when it came down to it. She knew it too, long before she ever admitted it, before she _could_ admit it, even to herself.  
  
The first time she got that feeling after there was a wedding ring on her finger, and she turned on the radio, and the song that came on only made it worse, she knew.  
  
Her marriage lasted another year and a half, some it in name only, but it wasn’t her that left, wasn’t her that quit trying. She could hear her grandfather’s voice in her ears. _“You made your bed, now lie in it.”_ Maybe he hadn’t meant it quite that literally, but he’d been dead for three years by then, so she couldn’t really ask him. He’d also used to say that everybody’s got a weakness. She knew all too well what hers was, after that.  
  
So, sometimes, she just knows better than to turn the radio on at all. Because even years later, long past all reason, long past when it should still hurt, past when part of her she never talks about should hope that one day he’ll just show up again like he’s done before…  
  
She’s got too many miles to go to spend them crying, so she just listens to the road instead.


End file.
